The Trouble With Akbadain
by Miss Descole
Summary: AU. Set after Miracle Mask. Descole has finally found the Infinite Chamber of Akbadain. However, Reinel has other plans. Plans that include a certain elaborate scientist... No Slash! Constructive criticism is appreciated!
1. The Infinite Chase

**The Trouble with Akbadain.******

**AN: Ok. So be prepared for a long authors note. This is my first fanfiction, on Professor Layton, and my first fanfiction ever, so I'm more than a little worried as to how I'll be accepted. Also, English is not my Mother Tongue, so please excuse any errors!******

**SPOILER ALERT for Professor Layton 6. There will be, if slightly jumbled, references to places and happenings in the sixth game, but since I can't exactly speak Japanese, I don't really understand some of what's going on.******

**This story takes place directly after Mask of Miracle ends, during the cutscene following the credits. It is completely AU from the point where Reinel (DIE! DIE! DIE!) steps out of his car to confront Descole, and then says something really evil which I can't for the life of me remember. Also, some of the theories in this story will be completely made up by me and won't be at all true to the actual Professor Layton storyline.******

**Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or any of the characters. I am not making any profit from this story - it is for my own, and hopefully someone else's, enjoyment.******

**Chapter One - The Infinite Chase.**

He stared down at the man, fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to contain his anger and disgust.

Bronev Reinel. He was now even more warped than Descole remembered. The Scientist glanced sideways at his butler and spoke softly:

"Be ready,"

Then he called to the Reinel in a louder voice, "Your views on world domination disgust me. But you're going to have to try harder than that to capture the Azran Legacies. Especially when I'm _inside_ one of them."

And in one liquid movement, Descole dropped behind the wall and away from the eyes of Targeant, motioning for Raymond to follow him as he heard Reinel's cries of "Get up there! Don't let them escape!" and the noise of the helicopters as they flew down to where the unfortunate twosome were standing.

"Master?" said Raymond, as Descole began running his hand up and down the wall in front of him, stopping when his long slender fingers reached a gap in the stone work, and tugged. There was a low grating sound as the stone swung out as if on a hinge and the wall before them glowed a brilliant blue. Descole stepped back as the wall parted to form a doorway, and then he turned to his butler.

"Raymond," he said, sounding monotonously calm, "Do you have any smoke bombs on you?"

Raymond nodded, producing a handful of dusty looking spheres from his inner pocket. "Aye, master. About five or so."

"Good," The scientist looked over his shoulder as the first Targeant soldiers stepped onto the upper wall, "They'll come in useful later on. Now, quickly, follow me!"

And they vanished into the darkness of the corridor.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

Reinel arrived to his soldiers gathered around the entrance. He stood in front of the doorway for a second, head tilted to the side as though contemplating it, and then a smirk began to play upon his lips, half hidden by his thick beard.

"You will pursue those men until you catch them," he informed the waiting army, "The older one is disposable. He can be killed upon sight, but only if the other one is with him. _He_ must be brought to me as relatively unharmed as possible. Is that clear?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, sir!" and the soldiers began filing in to break into a steady jog. Reinel watched them for a moment before he held up his hands and followed them in, the flow resuming behind him once he had entered.

"The Infinite chamber of Akbadain," he muttered to himself, "All the more fun for a chase."

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

It was not long before he heard the telltale 'clunk, clunk, clunk' of metal clad feet behind him, and this made Descole run even faster. Behind him, he heard Raymond giving the occasional huff or puff, but his butler had not yet slowed or stopped. Descole had to admire his perseverance.

The eerie blue glow was barely enough to light the way down the slippery, black tiled passage, and they could feel the walls around them slowly beginning to warm up from their bitter cold the further down they ran.

The echoing feet of Targeant were growing louder, and in an attempt to allow himself to run faster, Descole unfastened his heavy cape and let it drop to the floor. He could feel Raymond's eyes on his back as he picked up the pace, but ignored him. That is until Raymond finally stopped running, wheezing a little, and standing right beside another gaping doorway. Descole stared at it and then him in confusion for a moment, before the eyes behind the mask darkened.

"Master," his butler began, "I can create a diversion. Keep going forwards. I'll wait until those men come into sight and I'll duck into this side passage. They'll follow me believing I'm with you. Please," he continued, as Descole looked like he wanted to protest,"They're after you, not me. It will give you more time to get away. Take these," he dug around in his coat pocket and then pressed the smoke bombs into Descole's hand, "you'll be needing them. Now go."

Descole seemed frozen in place. Then he shook himself and stared at Raymond in a bewildered manner. "Don't get caught," he said finally as the sound of Targeant became clearer. He walked backwards a few paces, then, after nodding at his butler, he continued his run. Raymond watched him go, relaxing slightly as he disappeared from sight, and turned to wait.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

Reinel froze upon catching sight of the cape, effectively halting the rest of Targeant in their tracks. The cloth around the neckline was warm to touch, and this information brought another smile to his face.

"We're catching up."

Targeant doubled their pace.

It was not long before an excited cry was heard from the front, and the entire army surged forward, the message rippling back through the ranks: "We've got them now, they're within range!" and Reinel stopped at the opening as his soldiers streamed past him and into the side corridor, fingering the cape slung over his arm, all the while staring down the winding corridor they had originally been following.

"You fools!" he bellowed after a few more seconds of this. "That was a diversion! He's headed this way!"

The significantly small number of soldiers that heard this remark turned their heads to their commander and changed direction, heading down and past the little opening with Reinel at their head, still fingering the abandoned cape.

**Miss D: And that's it! Please tell me what you think! I'd be much obliged to any reviews or time spared for this story!******

**Descole: You...made...me...lose...my...cape...******

**Miss D: You have a whole wardrobe of those things! This one can't be any different! How many different copies of the same clothing do you have anyway?******

**Descole: ...******

**Miss D: Huh. Fine then. The next chapter should probably be up soon!**


	2. Caverns and Keys

**The Trouble with Akbadain.******

**AN: Yes, the last chapter was short. Far too short for my liking, but I'll work on that. I also just realised my mistake - Targent not Targeant. I'll see if I can fix that later on. :)******

**Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or any of the characters. I am not making any profit from this story - it is for my own, and hopefully someone else's, enjoyment.******

**Chapter 2 - Caverns and Keys.******

It was the third 'side opening' he had passed by now, and he was beginning to wonder whether he should slip into one of them to hide from the leader of Targent who he now knew was following.

However, Descole knew that 'hiding' was hardly the right word. It would be more like 'finding a temporary spot to wait and observe.' Were it not for the severe risk it posed of being caught, and Descole's urgent need to reach the center and eventual end of this corridor that he knew was there before Reinel and his sick army, he would have been sorely tempted to do just that and rest.

The now barely audible footfalls of Targent had begun to beat a rhythm in his mind - the constant reminder of why he had to keep running - If not for the good of himself, but for the good of the world at large. His whole body was doused in a chill whenever he thought of what would happen if that man got hold of the power of the Azrans.

What disturbed Descole even more was when he thought of what Reinel had been like before his obsession with the Azrans addled his mind. That someone such as that could turn into a monster as the one pursuing him now scared Descole more than he cared to admit.

He felt an icy draft biting at his skin, and for a split second regretted dropping his cape further back along the passage. The thought was dismissed from his mind as he noticed the water just before him, lying like a silver-blue sheen over the polished black stone. Descole bit back a sigh. He had never really liked water - after all, it always seemed to spell out bad luck for him. But he also knew that this meant his eventual destination was not too far away.

He was sure, however, that the splashes would carry their sound back up to unwanted ears.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

_Smoke bombs_, he thought as the passage before them grew thick with the grey smog, _how very, very unlike him_.

Reinel's eyes, safely covered by his dark glasses, penetrated and successfully guided him through the smoke to the other side and out into the ...water?

It was very well done, was Reinel's final but grudging decision as he surveyed the scene before him. The water wasn't very high - it couldn't drip off the walls fast enough to create anything deep, but it was enough to create a splash if stepped - or in this case run - in. The smoke bomb had certainly ensured the small group's attention long enough for a relatively silent and unnoticed getaway. Reinel scowled.

The men behind him were not all out, and so, trusting them to follow him when they got the chance, Reinel began his pursuing once again. But there was no need to run this time. It would just be a waste of energy. And besides, Descole was as good as caught.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

It was a dead end.

Descole could feel himself beginning to panic, but he forced the irrational feeling away and, instead, surveyed the wall blocking his path. It was relatively unremarkable, much like the rest of the passage around him, but the water, instead of stopping and building up against it, was filtering away through an unseen crack or hole.

This got Descole searching relatively quickly.

He ran his hands up and down the stone, got his fingers into and around every nook and crevice, yet he still found nothing. It was then that the irrational fear came creeping back, and, feeling utterly helpless, Descole let his forehead rest against the cool stone.

The wall rumbled.

He drew back with a start as the wall split in two, the slabs sliding away from each other and into the room beyond.

Descole cautiously picked his way past the new doorway and into the large space. It was certainly very grand, and it left him wondering mildly why such a space could not be seen from the outside.

The cavernous ceiling stretched high above his head, and the polished stone floor curved elegantly away from the walls to form a point, over which a steady stream of water flowed from all over the cavern. _My missing water supply then_, thought Descole as his eyes followed the steam rising from over the edge of the stone floor. Blowing on his face with more ferocity than ever was the cool air he had felt earlier, yet Descole could not pinpoint the source. But what really drew his gaze was the simple, almost crudely made pedestal standing like a soldier in the very center of the cavern. And on the pedestal was-

Nothing.

Descole was stricken dumb for a moment as he registered the fact, his eventual plans falling away before his very eyes. It took him a second longer to notice the sound of steady applause from the corridor behind him. He turned to be greeted by the sight of Reinel, standing alone, wearing a manic smirk on his face.

"Oh, well done! Very well done indeed!" there was a spark of malice in Reinel's eyes as he slowly began to advance on Descole. "You've opened the door to the chamber too! And all on your own. It was said to be impossible." He let his eyes wander the chamber for a moment before they rested on the empty pedestal, and his eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ah, you've already taken it I see. Well, let's just hand it over and make this easier for both of us." Reinel dropped his mocking tone and his face hardened. "The key, Descole."

Descole gazed at Reinel for a moment before deadpanning in the same, monotonous tone, "I don't have it."

Reinel almost sighed. "Of course you don't," he growled with a hint of sarcasm entering his voice, extending his hand palm up. "Where is it?"

"Nowhere," was the dark reply. Reinel came to a stop just inches from where Descole was standing, a murderous scowl apparent on his face.

"Your insolence will be your downfall, _Descole_," he spat the name out like poison, "Just tell me now, and no one need be injured."

Descole paused to glance back at the pedestal, then turned towards Reinel again.

"I've never seen any key of any kind here in my life."

There was a second during which Reinel's face contorted with fury, then-

_Crack!__  
_  
Descole's head snapped to the side as a dull pain entered the right side of his face. He slowly turned back to Reinel again, who was breathing in a very slow, animated fashion.

"Don't try...my patience." The Targent leader ground out through his teeth. "I have great need of that key. You're the only one who could have possibly been in here. _Where have you hidden it_?"

Descole hadn't spoken a word before he was suddenly smashed against the ground, pinned down by the other man as he groped around fruitlessly in his pockets. Descole growled and threw Reinel off him, slightly winded from the attack, barely having any time to recover before the older man charged again. This time, Descole flipped effortlessly over his head, barely sparing the Targent soldiers, who had now finally shown up, a glance before he made his own attack - a punch to Reinel's face ...which was dodged with little more than a head tilt. Seconds later Descole had a knee to the stomach, leaving him limp and breathless. Reinel took the opportunity to throw him to the ground, ripping his feather boa off in the process, where he was overwhelmed by the number of Targent officers.

Reinel clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he came to kneel beside Descole's head.

"Let this be a lesson to you," he breathed into the scientist's ear, "nothing good will come from crossing paths with me."

And then he knew no more.  
**  
****Miss D: Gosh. Action scenes. Well, sort of. Not sure about how I went with writing those! Poor Dessy. I'm so terribly cruel to him. :( and now to those who reviewed: Thank you for those! They really make me feel better!******

**Descole: which, obviously, makes her write more and write faster, which means I can get away from Reinel quicker!******

**Miss D: ...That's ...one way of putting it.******

**Descole: And that's it! Until the next chapter!******

**Miss D: Au revoir!**


	3. Eternal Life

**The Trouble with Akbadain.******

**AU: Next Chappie! I'd love some feedback on the chapter size, If anyone can spare the time :)******

**Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or any of the characters. I am not making any profit from this story - it is for my own, and hopefully someone else's, enjoyment.******

**Chapter 3 - Eternal Life.******

Raymond often disagreed with his master's choices - they often ended up in death-defying stunts, injuries, and more enemies than the poor butler cared to remember. This particular choice - running into the heart of the Infinite Chamber rather than leaving quietly - was bound to leave his master with a large amount of all three. And so he had created the diversion.

Unfortunately, it hadn't really worked.

Raymond knew from the chaos behind him that Reinel hadn't followed the majority of his soldiers - from the little that Descole had told him of the man, he knew that Bronev Reinel wouldn't allow such disorder.

And now Raymond knew that his master was in grave danger.

It took all of the butler's willpower not to turn around, charge through the ranks of soldiers, find his master, grab him, and run. Of course, doing so would only make things worse for both of them - Raymond knew that he wouldn't be able to make it through the soldiers. He would be captured, brought to Reinel, and then perhaps be used against Descole. His master often acted cold hearted and distant, and making threats against others was not exactly an unusual occurrence, but Descole never really acted upon said threats, and Raymond had seen definite, almost open signs of emotion before. There was no doubt that Reinel had guessed this, and the butler came to the conclusion that escaping, if possible, would benefit both of them until one of them came up with an alternative. A rescue, perhaps.

And so Raymond continued to run and run and run, but was faced with a slight problem:

He wasn't nearly as young as he used to be, and Targent definitely wasn't made up of old men such as himself. Raymond was already wheezing, and the army was slowly gaining on him. It amazed him how long these men could run for - how long his master could run for - without breaking into so much as a sweat. Raymond knew that he couldn't hold out for much longer.

He jumped at the first chance he got - a crevice, large enough to fit a man, and barely noticeable to those who weren't looking. Raymond squeezed himself inside, making himself as small as possible, and then waited, not moving, barely breathing.

Seconds later, the Targent soldiers tramped past, each and every one of them staring straight ahead, not bothering to look to the side.. He waited with bated breath as they disappeared from sight, their footsteps fading away into nothingness. Raymond allowed himself a sigh of relief.

_Thugs_, he thought, shaking his head slowly as he pulled himself from the crack, _They're either very unobservant, very stupid, or both_.

He redirected his route to go down the way he had come, but now a little more cautiously. There was now one more thing on his mental checklist:

Rescue his master from his fate.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

Reinel couldn't help a feeling of satisfaction as Descole finally stopped struggling and went limp - the drug Reinel had injected when he had attacked him finally taking its toll. However, there was a little voice screaming at him in the back of his mind that this was wrong. This was very, very wrong.

Naturally, Reinel ignored such voices. As one would when they were so close to achieving their ultimate goal.

"You there!" he said sharply to a group of the Targent soldiers. He then inclined his head at Descole. "Take him and leave. Make sure he is guarded at all times. Then give the order to secure the area - I will follow you up shortly. And do not," Reinel's tone was suddenly very cold, "take his mask off if you value your life."

The soldiers scurried into action, and soon all but a few had left, taking Descole with them.

"The rest of you," Reinel continued to the remainder of men, "will search this chamber from top to bottom. You should know what you're looking for."

"Yes, sir!" came the reply, and they all spread out along the chamber. Reinel, meanwhile, walked to the edge of the drop and looked down at the steaming pool beneath. With a smirk, he turned back round and slowly made his way out of the chamber and into the corridor.

"Infinite chamber indeed," he muttered as he left. "Indeed."

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

The first thing he felt when he awoke was the cold. Not your usual cold, however, but the kind of cold that pierces your heart and then freezes you from the inside out.

The next thing was how hard and smooth the ground beneath him was. Then how heavy his eyelids were, and last of all, how painfully slowly his eyes brought everything into focus.

He was lying in a large, empty, polished marble room. No furniture was in sight, the walls were tall and smooth, and there were no windows.

Then it all came rushing back to him. The chamber, Reinel, and losing consciousness due to being -

Descole sat up very quickly - a big mistake. His head spun and throbbed and room wavered in and out of focus. "_Drugged_," he moaned aloud, although it sounded raspy and dry, and his throat felt like sandpaper. He clutched his head until the spinning stopped and then waited a while before he made another move, pushing himself up the wall until he was on his feet, and then taking a few unsteady steps to test himself.

He eventually came to the conclusion that it must have been a very strong drug used upon him.

Leaning on the wall, he examined the room again from a standing position. It was, indeed, empty, and the only particularly noticeable things that he could find were the metal door on the other end of the room, and his cape and feather boa neatly folded in the middle.

Descole growled under his breath - one of Reinel's not-so-subtle reminders about what had happened down in the chamber. The leader of Targent obviously knew that Descole wouldn't be able to make it to the center of the room for a while yet - and he knew that the cape was something Descole would long for after experiencing the bone rattling cold inside of him for a while longer.

There was a rattle of chains and bolts from the other side of the door, and the man himself walked in. Descole had been expecting this, but it didn't stop him from emitting a low snarl.

"Oh, come, come. There's no need for that." Reinel spread his hands out in front of him. "I was just coming to say hello."

The eyes behind the mask flashed with anger. "What do you want?"

"Well, you do get straight to the point." The older man crossed his arms and leaned casually against the now closed door. "You already know what I want."

Descole blew out through his nose in frustration. "Stop beating around the bush, Reinel, you know what I mean. You already have the three Azran legacies. Why shouldn't you just kill me now? What more could you want?"

The words were carefully chosen, and Descole deliberately avoided the topic of the fourth part in gaining the Azran power. But there was a gleam in Reinel's eyes that told him that the other man did know of it, but was unwilling to share such information. Descole watched as the smile grew of the Targent leader's face.

"Why indeed?" He said, starting to pace slowly around the edge of the room, Descole watching on warily, "I suppose you deserve to know. It does ...involve you after all," Reinel's smirk was manic, "I'm surprised you don't know of it yourself. There is another part to gaining the Azran power " Descole raised an eyebrow, "One of the more important steps. Human blood directly descended from the Azrans themselves must be spilt upon an altar, and there before the altar shall be a door, which shall open upon the sacrifice, and he who enters shall have the ultimate life - an immortal, indestructible life. I know the location of the altar. All there is left to be done is to go there."

"And the ...human sacrifice?"

Reinel came to a stop a few meters from where Descole was standing, his eyes now reflecting all the insanity within.

"As your mother's eldest child, the Azran power flows strong in you. And that's why there's no sense to be killing you ...just yet."

**Miss D: I somehow believe that NONE of you saw that coming, huh?******

**Descole: I hate you.******

**Miss D: Of course you don't.******

**Descole: -Turns on her with a murderous glint in his eyes-******

**Miss D: Eep! -Runs away-******

**Descole: Ah, peace and quiet. To those of you who reviewed, they were much appreciated and loved. To those of you who didn't ...I'LL RUN YOU THROUGH WITH MY SWORD UNLESS YOU DO LATER ON! So, no pressure. Thank you for reading!**


	4. Azran Blood

**The Trouble with Akbadain.**

**AU: I just watched the scene where Descole is standing on top of the Akbadain chamber and beneath him there are these arched doorway things. For the sake of this story, those arched doorway things have a wall behind them that is like the one I described in the first chapter. I hope that I didn't make things even more confusing by adding that in ...whoops. Also, sorry about the confusion with the updating. I deleted the chapter again after I posted it :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or any of the characters. I am not making any profit from this story - it is for my own, and hopefully someone else's, enjoyment.**

**Chapter 4 - Azran Blood.**

If it was a method of weakening him more than he already was, it was certainly working.

The room was always cold and dim, meals - if a hunk of bread and half a cup of water could be called a meal - only came once in what Descole assumed was a day, and Reinel himself would appear a few hours after those, always brandishing his manic smirk and the same question: _where was the key._

It took a few times for Reinel to ask this question before Descole grew annoyed with the nonexistent key. It was obviously more trouble than it was worth.

"I don't have your stupid key!" he finally burst out with as much energy as he could muster - the drug had seemingly not worn off yet, in fact the effects were worse - the fourth time Reinel asked this. "Just shut up and go look for it yourself."

Reinel surveyed him for a while after he said this. Then, "You should respect your elders. I would have thought that you had been taught that." Descole lifted his chin and said nothing, and Reinel turned on his heel and walked to the door, leaving with the same remark:

"Remember not to hurt yourself. That really wouldn't do."

And Descole was once again cold and alone.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

Reinel had always loved watching people react to his actions, but none so far had been as amusing to watch as Descole.

At first it had been silent shock, then his face had contorted in a mixture of confusion and disgust.

"You're completely sick," the scientist had said, "That's not an Azran power. They weren't that ..._destructive_."

Reinel had raised an amused eyebrow at this. "How so?"

Descole glared. "Well, how do you think? They wrote music! They buried healing gardens in the earth! They-" he had broken off quite suddenly at this point, and scowled deeply when Reinel had laughed.

"And you say you research such things! I'm disappointed in you, Descole! I'd imagined that you would have tried harder!"

Reinel had left it at that. And over the next few days Descole had become more resigned, seemingly accepting the fact that he was going to die. But Reinel was sure that if he hadn't spiked Descole's food and drink with the drug, he wouldn't be nearly as docile as he was now.

The younger man's hazy, drug induced brain had not yet been able to realise why he was so weak, and if Reinel's plan continued to work, he wouldn't until it was too late. Now, however, Reinel knew that something had changed in Descole - his annoyed response to Reinel's question today had been far too sharp, and Reinel himself was injecting the drug every day - for safety precautions, of course.

His troubled mind didn't let the issue drop for the remainder of the afternoon. He received word just before six that a team of Targent soldiers were being sent down over the edge of the stone floor in the cavern at the Chamber of Akbadain. This made something in his head click.

_Azran blood_.

He was out of his office in a flash and down one hallway, then another, until he reached the room where Descole was being held. He ignored the bewildered soldier's stuttering as he unlocked the door and crossed the room to where Descole was curled up in the corner. The scientist remained unresponsive until Reinel grabbed his arm and jerked him upright, yanking him forwards and in the direction of the hallway again. Descole stumbled a little at first, almost losing his footing, but regained it quickly and he began trying to shake himself from Reinel's grasp. Targent's leader growled and doubled his pace, pulling Descole forwards again and down the corridor back towards his office.

Descole didn't stop fighting him the whole way, and Reinel's temper was flaring. Once they were both bolted inside his office, he pinned Descole against the wall with a little more force then necessary, able, even through the other man's mask, to see the clarity in his eyes.

"Azran blood!" Reinel spat, "Always so difficult to control! _Azran blood_!"

He let Descole go with a disgusted sigh, and crossed to the other side of the room, careful to keep the scientist within his line of vision. He noted, with a small amount of pleasure, how wary the other's stance became as he approached the cabinet full of various weapons.

With ultimate care, Reinel selected the small, green stone knife from the top shelf and weighed it in his hands, before turning back to Descole.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

It had been three days.

Three days since they had entered the Akbadain ruins, and three days since his master had been captured.

As Raymond had left his side passage, he had almost run smack bang Bronev Reinel himself. It had been a strange encounter, for the Targent leader had seen him, smirked, and said:

"You should be grateful. There's no reason to kill you. And you might like to know that your master is no longer running. The drug has seen to that."

The Reinel had turned and continued up the passage. Raymond had at first felt a wave of shock, then was calmed as he reminded himself in a mutter, "Blood, Raymond, _Blood_." When he had looked up at where Reinel had been just a few seconds ago, the man had gone.

For a few minutes Raymond stood still as indecision tore at him: Believe Reinel and continue, or go back and look for his master.

But then he thought of the feather boa held loosely in Reinel's hand. An obvious clue as to the truth.

An hour later, he emerged from the doorway of the passage and into the starlit desert, pressing himself against the dark wall as he noticed the Targent soldiers stationed around the chamber's outer edge.

He ran swiftly and silently through the shadows, finally pulling the last two smoke bombs from his pocket, clutching them in his hand before carefully replacing one and climbing to the top of the chamber wall.

There were a lot of startled cries as the soldiers were engulfed in white smoke, coughing and raising the alarm. Very soon the small section of the ruins was swarming with soldiers, but by that time, Raymond had already disappeared.

**Miss D: And so that ends that.**

**Descole: With a bit of a cliffhanger, too. Typical.**

**Miss D: You're not trying to kill me anymore?**

**Descole: I still hate you.**

**Miss D: ...Fine. Again, thanks to those who reviewed! If you can, please do so again! And no, this time you won't be chased around by a sword wielding maniac, don't worry!**

**Descole: -Mutters darkly-**

**Miss D: That's all, folks!**


	5. Runaway

**The Trouble With Akbadain.**

**AN: Hope you all like this next chapter! I think it's a little shorter than the previous one, but oh well.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or any of the characters. I am not making any profit from this story - it is for my own, and hopefully someone else's, enjoyment.**

**Chapter 5 - Runaway**

He had caught just a flash of brown as Descole whipped out the door, and Reinel felt torn between growling in frustration and laughing at the stupidity of the attempted escape.

The result was a manic mixture of both.

Reinel then wasted no time in issuing orders to the rest of Targent, to 'rally as quickly as possible' outside his office.

"We have a runaway," he told them minutes later, and each one gave a smirk, "One that we can't allow to get away."

They dispersed almost as quickly as they had come, and Reinel himself led a group of soldiers to the northern reaches of the base, already anticipating Descole's actions.

It was with a frown that he realised he was not enjoying this as much as he should be.

But then who was he to let that stop him.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

His master, Raymond hoped, would not hate him for this. At the moment it was the only option. The alternative, Raymond knew, would make his master throw a fit.

Time was flying, fast, and enough of it had already been wasted. Two days ago had been the third evening of Descole's capture. It was now the fourth day for which Raymond had been walking, and Descole's current base still seemed so far away. Five days was too long in the Butler's opinion for anyone to be in Reinel's clutches.

Luckily, Raymond, being the tactful, organised man that he is, had already thought up a rescue plan. The only problem was that it would have to use one of his master's unfinished, most likely unstable, machines. And Descole had specifically told him not to use said machine until he gave the say-so.

Raymond did not enjoy disobeying his master. But this time it was necessary, and, in a way, vital. It had been purely out of chance that he had discovered Descole's heritage. Raymond was almost certain that Descole didn't know much about it himself, and the butler was determined to keep it that way. The less his master knew about such things, the less danger it put him in. However, there was no saying that Reinel didn't already know. There was no saying whether Reinel even knew Descole's true identity, and this made Raymond even more urgent - it just so happened that his master's machine was the fastest accessible mode of defensive transport available.

The problem he faced when he finally got there, however, was the fact that he'd never really learnt how to fly a zeppelin.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

It was not so much a matter of running as a matter of watching and waiting for the right moment.

Descole's break from Reinel's office had almost been too easy - the door was unlocked, there had been a map of the layout of the building on the wall and Reinel had had his back turned.

It had been so easy that Descole had great reason to be suspicious. And his gradually clearing brain was already setting off warning bells in his head.

It had been a near miss when a group of Targent soldiers had rounded one of the many corners, and Descole had barely enough time to whip up into a window crevice and behind a curtain. The soldiers passed without a glance up at his hiding spot, and Descole dropped to the ground, proceeding with greater care from then on.

There was definitely something wrong in the way that the soldiers were moving: with purpose, not searching or even bothering to be quiet as they walked down the halls. Moving towards a destination, Descole finally concluded, and he frowned as he realised how little time it had taken for them to spring into action.

The action of soldiers soon died down and the halls became empty, every corridor completely void of life save for himself.

_They were moving to the entrances_, he thought darkly, annoyed that it had taken so long for him to realise this, _So that there is no way out!_

Seconds later, he smirked. "Thank goodness for exits, then." He muttered to himself, and started off again, now heading in what he hoped was the general direction of north. He broke into a steady run as he realised that Reinel would eventually figure out his actions and try to intercept him .

With a chill he suddenly remembered the Infinite Chamber of Akbadain, and once again the walls were smooth and black, and the echoing feet of Targent pursued him.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk.._.

He started violently as he recognized the sound, and pushed himself a little harder, disgusted when he felt himself tiring, and hoping that Reinel wouldn't follow him to the exit labelled on the map as:

_Flooded exit - closed off for repairs. No access unless permission requested._

**Miss D: I know, It's short. And sort of weird. I'm sorry.**

**Descole: Yes. You are.**

**Miss D: Don't tell me you're still mad about that, are you?**

**Descole: ...Yes.**

**Miss D: -sigh- Oh brother. Thank you so much to my reviewers! I am so pleased by the enthusiastic comments I'm receiving. If you can, please review as well. It really means a lot to me! **

**Descole: Indeed. Now, run along.**


	6. Knives And Threats

**The Trouble With Akbadain.**

**AN: Hopefully this chapter will be longer and make up for the other one. Hopefully.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or any of the characters. I am not making any profit from this story - it is for my own, and hopefully someone else's, enjoyment.**

**Chapter Six - Knives and Threats.**

It was a very long way down, and the air on the staircase smelt musty and untouched.

It way lucky, Descole thought, that he quite liked heights. Anyone else would have looked down and probably turned back. But the atrocious height, mixed with the flimsy metal staircase, spelt out the perfect place to go. After all, who would want to descend a staircase with no railings?

Targent, obviously.

He could hear them, but couldn't tell where they were, for the sound was echoing so much that it seemed they surrounded him - and Descole knew that this wasn't true.

He wasted no time in beginning his flight down the stairs. Round and round and round... they never seemed to end. The air grew thicker with every step, and Descole was finding it harder and harder to breathe. He glanced upwards, and could no longer see the light of the doorway. He grimaced. Everything suddenly seemed a whole lot more stifling, but Descole pushed this feeling aside. There was no time for fear.

He almost groaned as he caught sight of the water - but even he could not tell whether this was from relief or annoyance. He supposed it was a mixture of both. _Flooded is right_, he thought to himself as he peered down at the silent pool, noting as he did so how the walls were cracked and various makeshift platforms wound their precarious way from wall to staircase and back again. An abandoned worksite, it seemed to Descole. And he wondered why it had been left in this state.

"That was quicker than I had expected."

Descole jerked to full awareness, cursing himself as he sought for Reinel amongst the shadows. There was a soft chuckle.

"On the contrary, I had almost expected you to collapse in the hallway."

The man was above him, descending the staircase with an air of triumph. Descole growled at him.

"You expect too much, Reinel," he said, putting as much emphasis behind the name as possible, "and no matter how sure of yourself you are, you always rely on your cronies to be their to do your dirty work."

Reinel gazed at him with his head cocked slightly to the side. "And ypu don't?" he questioned, "You let that old man - what was his name again?"

"Leave Raymond out of this," Descole spat, and Reinel smiled.

"Ah, yes," he said, "_Raymond_. Well, I'm afraid to say that leaving him out of this is quite out of the question. You see, he's really the only thing I have left that can secure the Azran power for me."

Descole felt a rush of panic as his mind conjured up all sorts of images. He glared daggers at Reinel, "He can't do anything for you. You don't even need him. I'm the one you want."

"True," Reinel said thoughtfully as he began moving slowly forwards, like a predator, "But that doesn't mean that I can't use leverage to get what I want."

The younger man's eyes started raking the scene in front of him for a way out, and upon finding nothing, he began to stall.

"Which Azran power is it that you want to gain control of now?" He snapped, "I know of none that would use such violent means to be harnessed."

Reinel's smirk grew, if possible, even wider. "Did I say that it was an Azran power?" he questioned idly, "Or is that just your ignorance kicking in? No, Descole. This is the power of a counter civilisation. A civilisation known to be the downfall of the Azrans."

"And they are-?" The scientist asked, slowly trailing off. Reinel's expression hardened.

"Too many questions!" he said sharply, "And too little action. You could take the option to come quietly, or we'll have to resort to more ...physical means."

Descole snarled. "Not on your life!" He leapt into the air and flipped over Reinel's head, kicking a few of the Targent soldiers in the face and landed on the other side of the wall of bodies, breaking into a swift run up the stairs. There were cries of anger and alarm from below him. And Descole almost smiled.

He had managed to make it out of that one almost unscathed, with nothing but a scratch from Reinel's green slate knife. Were the situation any less serious, he may have laughed.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD 

A few of the Targent soldiers pursued Descole up the stairs, but the rest awaited Reinel's orders, fidgeting and twitching.

The Targent leader looked down at the dagger in his hand. On the tip, he caught sight of a bead of blood.

"Alert the other soldiers around the complex to secure all entrances and exits," He said stiffly, "Make certain that every one - including those not in use - are blocked off to all but those who have the proper qualifications."

In unison, the men barked, "Right away, sir!" And Reinel left them to themselves. Making his way to his office.

"Foolish boy," he finally spat aloud, and his voice echoed eerily around the corridor, "When will he realise: there's nowhere to run."

And it was a triumphant man who returned to his office, replacing the knife he held with another one, decorated with a blood-encrusted handle.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD 

Raymond had found the zeppelin to be more trouble than he anticipated.

His master's handwritten instructions were almost illegible, and it was with great difficulty that Raymond had discovered the zeppelin's secret:

It was an aeroplane in disguise.

After that, he had felt confident about his actions. Opening the roof hatch had been no problem. Disconnecting the zeppelin balloon had been another matter entirely, but he got it eventually. And then, when Raymond was finally settled in front of the main controls, the real problem arose.

The wheel looked like it was off an old pirate ship, and the rest of the controls from outer space. It was with great difficulty that Raymond read Descole's instructions:

'_Leftlevertobepulledinopposit edirectionofrightlevertostee r. Planerequiresnorunway. Ignitionkeyfoundunderdrivers seat. Turntwiceanticlockwisetostar t.'_

Raymond felt around for a while under the seat, soon finding a small silver key hidden in the seat cushion.

The engine started with a splutter, and Raymond, quickly reading his master's cramped words, yanked the levers up and down. The ascent was gradual, and the controls fiddly, but the butler soon mastered the movement needed.

"Hang on, master," he muttered, "I'm coming."

**Miss D: Well, It's longer, and hopefully satisfactory. Thank you, again, O kind reviewers. I would much appreciate it if anyone could take the time to give me feedback.**

**Descole: But we're not exactly pressuring you... -fingers sword-**

**Miss D: Ahem. No, we're not. So don't be afraid! Until next time!**


	7. Hallucinations and Poisoned Knives

**The Trouble With Akbadain.**

**AN: Not much to say in this Author's note, actually. I'm just wasting my time writing it. So I'll stop, I suppose.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton or any of the characters. I am not making any profit from this story - it is for my own, and hopefully someone else's, enjoyment.**

**Chapter Seven - Hallucinations and Poisoned Knives.**

Descole was walking through a nightmare.

He stood on a ledge high above the floor, precariously balanced, and the world around him was spinning. Images played like films before his eyes. At present, he was trapped in a painful memory:

_The small family stood in a huddle as the door before them was swung off its hinges._

_"Sir," one of the large, beefy intruders grunted, "You and your family will come with us."_

_The father growled at the men, but his face was pale. "We're not going anywhere with you!"_

_Behind him, the younger of the two children started crying into his older brother's arms, and the boy's mother tried to reach for him as the four men began to shout. Then there was a bang, a scream, and a cry of alarm as the three men leapt towards the family, grabbing the two adults and knocking the eldest son away as he rushed forwards to save his parents. _

_In a matter of seconds, the large black car in the driveway was pulling away from the house and onto the street, leaving the two children on their own: one crying, and one bleeding..._

Descole was jerked from the scene as his knees hit the cold stone on the ledge, and he growled his frustration. No sooner had his head cleared, than he was plunged again into a misty recollection:

_A teenage boy stood alone, fists clenched, teeth gritted, and tears streaming down his face._

_'...Leader of the Government organisation 'Targent'...' The article had said, '...Successfully running the organisation for over twelve years...'_

_With an anguished, furious, heart-wrenching yell the boy punched the boulder beside him and fell to the ground, ignoring his throbbing, bleeding knuckles and crying tears of hate.._.

His shoulder collided with the wall, but Descole barely felt it, now holding onto the very last threads of consciousness...

_A man stood on a balcony, unseen eyes smoldering, long fingers gripping the metal railing._

_"We have to find it first," he said to the figure beside him, "and we will have to destroy it. Otherwise the power will be open to anyone."_

_Had the man's face not been covered, the figure beside him would've seen the eyes brimming with the last of unshed tears._

The air around him was cold, and Descole allowed himself a fevered smile.

Those tears would have to remain unshed forever.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

He had never been one to follow his instincts. But Raymond could not deny that this time had been one of the rare occasions where he had.

With the 'zeppelin' under control, and his mind set solely upon rescuing his master, he had turned the contraption around and began flying in a straight line. Just because he felt like it was the right way.

Sure enough, he had found, or more like 'almost flown into' a helicopter he recognised as one of Reinel's.

The intercom crackled, "Codeword?" Raymond jumped in his seat, more than a little startled. Codeword? Couldn't they see that he wasn't part of the army? With another jolt he realised that the helicopter had large gun-like contraptions attached on the underside, and Raymond blurted out the first word that came to his mind:

"Azran."

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Clear. Proceed to landing pad seven zero five."

The communications link shut off, and Raymond allowed himself a sigh of relief. Azran. Really? How incredibly unoriginal, and how incredibly obvious. _The helicopter must have been a border patrol_, he thought,_ and so that means the base is not far from here!_

He was right. Within a matter of minutes, he saw a large, oblong building looming out of the dunes of sand. Along the top of the building were walled-in numbered platforms - seven zero zero to eight zero zero - but barely any were occupied. In fact, the building looked deserted.

With great care, Raymond flew as low to platform seven zero five as the plane would allow him, and the weaved his way into another little nook nearby. He shut the engines off and slipped out of the steel door and dropped to the ground.

No Targent soldiers were coming, but Raymond felt, rather than saw, their presence. He snuck over to the door and opened it a crack, but withdrew almost immediately as he saw the five Targent soldiers on the other side. Raymond exhaled slowly as he glanced around to find some sort of weapon or object to defend himself. His eyes, however, fell upon something far better.

A ledge, and a crumbling gap in the wall.

JDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJD JDJD

Reinel was not what one would call a patient man.

He had been content for a while, lounging in his office, staring at the now dried bead of blood on the green stone knifepoint.

It wouldn't have been enough for the sacrifice. In fact, it probably wouldn't have made a difference if it was spilt upon the altar. It was, however, enough to show Reinel that he had cut deep enough to poison his victim's blood. He could still see the poison within the stone - the only thing that could subdue an Azran. But in a short while his smirk had faded, and he had thrown the knife away, replacing it with the one that had lain upon his desk.

In Reinel's eyes, this was the real jewel. He had found it upon the altar itself, obviously meant for the sacrifice, in top condition - the blade had been sharp, the tool well kept, and the handle stained with the blood of its last victims. Why the handle was like this, and not the blade, Reinel was not sure. But frankly, he didn't really care.

The knife in his hands seemed to be trembling, as if awaiting its next time of use. Reinel found himself tapping the handle aimlessly, as though trying to soothe the object, as he waited for one of his soldiers to come to him and report.

As if on cue, there was a hesitant, heavy knock on the door, and the Targent soldier let himself in.

"Sir," he said, "A foreign airplane was seen above the base. The patrol reported that it knew the codeword, sir."

Reinel sat up and frowned. "Did the patrol get a look at the pilot?"

"Not much of a look, sir," the soldier said nervously, "Only that he wasn't wearing the usual uniform. And that he seemed to be rather old-"

Reinel jumped up, fury written all over his features. "The old _fool_!" he snarled, stalking towards the door and yanking it open, gripping the knife very hard.

"Sir?" the soldier questioned as he hurried along behind him.

"Assemble a team to go and search for the aircraft," Reinel spat, "_Quickly_!" The soldier dropped from his side and disappeared, and Reinel growled under his breath, moving even faster toward the landing pads.

**Miss D: Dun dun DUUUUUUUUN! Will Reinel find Raymond? Will Descole, poor poisoned soul that he is, be alright? Well, you'll have to wait until I decide to update again!**

**Descole: ...Yay?**

**Miss D: No, silly! Boo hoo, because you will have to wait to see what happens! **

**Descole: Ah. Very well then, please review, and to those of you who did, thank you very much.**

**Miss D: You forgot to say happy Easter!**

**Descole: ...**

**Miss D: Sourpuss. Happy Easter everybody**!


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